by ben curtis 

While they are busy building enough new flats around Madrid to house the remaining few young professionals that still haven’t fled to the city from the economically depressed provinces, there are a remarkable number of empty flats here in the centre of the city. Half the shutters in the 6 floor building opposite ours are permanently down - a sure sign of an empty home - and no-one has lived next to, or below us, for as long as we have been here. There are a vast number of unoccupied flats in the centre of Madrid, a problem that is reflected in large cities all over Spain.

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by ben curtis 

Speaking of Spanish film (the post on nudity in Spanish cinema is the most commented on in a long time!), it seems Penelope Cruz has been nominated for Best Female Actress in the next Oscars, for her role in the excellent (and bizzarely not nominated) Volver.

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by ben curtis 

The other night I was speaking with Marina and a friend, Yolanda, about Spanish films and, in particular, the classic Jamon Jamon. Yolanda thought that it really went for the dark side of Spanish life (whorehouses, amateur bull taunting, violence), and Marina commented that Penelope Cruz, then 16, portrayed a strongly sexual role. My reaction was: “Typical Spanish film”.

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by ben

In town over the holidays? Here's our Notes from Spain recommendations for 10 things to do in Madrid. For more details and maps, see your guide book! (Time Out Madrid is great.)

1. The No-Brainer
Visit at least one of the big three art museums, the Prado, the Reina Sofia and the Thyssen. If in doubt pick the Reina Sofia and see Picasso's Guernica.

2. Tapas Grazing
Start on Cava Baja, stopping at will on this bar-packed street, then head into the depths of La Latina for more.

3. Something Different
Take a trip on the Teleferico, out into the depths of the Casa de Campo.

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by almendro 

We first noticed them a couple of years ago. Calf-high, low-heeled (no heeled, really), lace-up horrors masquerading as women’s footwear. Suddenly, they were everywhere, filling scores of shop windows with their hideousness, marring the lower extremities of nearly every female under 40. Somehow, wrestling boots had become hip.

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by almendro

Thanksgiving has now past, and you know what that means.

We’ve written before about el caganer - the Catalan crapper who shows up in nativity scenes this time of year. The caganer is a mischievous reminder that, despite the high serenity of the Virgin Birth, nature has its way.

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Temperatures in Madrid have dropped in the past few days, which means I've probably made my last gazpacho of the season.

In truth, it took me a long time to learn to love gazpacho. Not only because, well into my twenties, I refused to eat tomatoes (until the fateful day when I passed a market in Caligari, Sardinia--how well I remember it!--and the red globes looked too delicious to pass up). But mostly because, even after I had learned to love the tomato, I only tried gazpacho in the US, where it tends suffer from a serious texture problem.

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by almendro

"It's going to be a 24-7, three-dimensional experience," said Trevor Horwell, chief hotels officer for Hard Rock International. "You're going to have moods happening within the rooms, vibes going on within the restaurant and another vibe in the bar."

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by almendro 

For years, it seemed, Madrid's street performers were confined to your run-of-the-mill accordionists and wistful travelling Germans strumming out slightly off-key Beatles songs. But now, every summer seems to bring a new addition. First it was the Thai massage people, who would congregate at the Plazas del Oriente and Mayor and corral weary tourists into sitting on a stool and getting their muscles rubbed. (You may not think of the massage as performance, but believe me, the sight of an overweight, sunburned, somewhat embarrassed American having her limbs pulled this way and that by a wiry Asian man is nothing if not a spectacle.)

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The diversity of Spanish cab drivers may only be matched by their willingness to tutor you on whatever topic you bring with you into their vehicles.

Whereas the last taxista to earn a place on this blog had waxed long in the tradition of esoteric philosophical critics, the man shown above deserves notice for being an acute observer of contemporary popular culture.

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by almendro

I've always had a soft spot for Spanish medicine. Especially the pharmacies, where the job is taken very seriously, and prescriptions are only occasionally necessary. Spanish pharmacists fulfill a role somewhat closer to doctors than they do in the US: often you can walk in, describe your symptoms, answer a few questions, and walk out with just the thing for what ails you.

And in general, we've been delighted to learn that things like heavy-duty cough medicine with codeine (it's allergy season and the whole country is suffering from the highest pollen counts in the past 20 years) are ours just for the asking.

Photo credit: Angel 14

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by almendro 

It's espadrille season again (or as a sign I passed today, clearing shooting—if perhaps not very effectively—for the English-speaking market says:  "Time for Spadrilles from Spain."  Not far from our apartment, the crowds are again gathering around what I think must be Madrid's most popular footwear store, Casa Hernanz.  I wrote about the shop about a year ago, but what were in my opinion the best parts got cut out.  So I thought I'd print the original here:

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by almendro 

Spaniards have a talent for groups. They are delightfully social creatures--able to talk to anyone about anything, and never happier than when surrounded by crowds of other Spaniards all jabbering away. They learn this skill at a young age--a British acquaintance of mine describes with mild amusement watching his children's daycare teachers chastise them for spending too much time on their own.

But they are also inveterate rule-breakers. They may enjoy spending time with other people, but Spaniards never think that the those same people's rules apply to them.

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